Reassurance
by The Emcee
Summary: Sherlock may find Irene fascinating and intellectually adequate, but he wasn't going to let her come between him and John. He could live without the Woman; he couldn't live without his blogger. Slash. Johnlock.


Title: Reassurance

Author: The Emcee

Pairing: Johnlock

Rating: K+

Summary: Sherlock may find Irene fascinating and intellectually adequate, but he wasn't going to let her come between him and John. He could live without the Woman; he couldn't live without his blogger.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: It's been a while since I've written a Johnlock fic, so here we go! Let me know what you lot think, okay? R&R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**Reassurance**

**~…~**

"If I wanted to, I could have you on this desk twice until you begged for mercy," Irene told Sherlock, fully aware that John was in the room and fully aware that he was Sherlock's boyfriend, partner, lover, whatever the younger Holmes called him.

It had been obvious the first time she had seen the photos of the two of them together. And rumor spread throughout London's vast grapevine. Sherlock Holmes was a great man, a genius with good looks, and he was taken by an ex army doctor. Not a lot of people Irene knew believed that Sherlock could be so taken in with someone like John. Now, Irene didn't dislike John – nor was she overly fond of him – but she thought he looked boringly average and ordinary and downright dull. What did Sherlock see in him that she couldn't? Her intellect rivaled Sherlock's; surely, she would be able to see it.

John shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable and tense. _Jealous_. He was jealous and Irene knew it. If she knew it, then Sherlock must have known it as well. And the blonde had been jealous the moment Irene walked into the room when they first met, as naked as the day she had been born, flaunting her gorgeous body and her looks, trying to entice Sherlock. As a result of her hard work, she had succeeded; Sherlock was indeed interested in her, even if it wasn't because he found her sexually arousing at the moment.

But he would. Irene knew that and she knew that John knew that too. John, she could tell, didn't have a high opinion of himself and doubted his relationship with Sherlock more often than not. Watching Irene and Sherlock interact only confirmed his thoughts and feelings and made him feel incompetent and useless and unwanted, unneeded, which he was, of course. Who would choose someone like John Watson when Irene was more than willing and just…well, _more_?

Oh, she knew that John truly loved Sherlock more than anyone. That much as obvious. And, to some extent, Sherlock cared for John in return, but was he in love with him? Irene highly doubted it. From what Jim had told her, Sherlock was a virgin, asexual, and married to his work; love was something strange and foreign to him and he didn't bother with it. But just because he didn't bother with love didn't mean that he didn't find Irene attractive. He did and she knew that. All three of them knew that.

"What do you say, Mister Holmes?" Irene asked, pressing her body closer to Sherlock's. Underneath her bathrobe, she was completely nude and the two men knew that.

"It would be fun. We would have a wonderful time," Irene continued. John cleared his throat again and stood up.

"Well, then, I think I'll leave you two to it," he said, trying to be courteous even though his posture was stiff and full of tension.

Irene watched as Sherlock's eyes followed John out of the room. He kept staring after him as though he could force the doctor back through sheer force of will. It made Irene smirk inwardly to herself. Crowding his personal space, Irene pressed her lips to Sherlock's ear, unable to keep the grin off of her face.

"Now that the stiff is out of the room, why not have that fun, Mister Holmes?" she asked him.

And then, suddenly and out of nowhere, Sherlock was gone. Irene almost tumbled over and when she straightened herself up, she realized that Sherlock was on the opposite side of the room, his unnaturally bright eyes narrowed in her direction, boring into her very soul. Did he realize how much he affected her? Did she care?

"I appreciate your offer, Miss Adler, however, I must inform you that I am in a committed relationship with my blogger, a _monogamous _one, and as such, I decline your offer," Sherlock said, sounding all business and confident and self-assured. It only served to turn Irene on even more.

"Don't try to fool me, Mister Holmes. I can tell: you're attracted to me," Irene said, approaching him, swaying her hips and giving him a confident, flirty smile. "Don't deny it. We both know it's true."

"While your intellect is refreshing and intriguing, I do not, in fact, find you physically or sexually appealing. The only person I am attracted and committed to is John, whom you've managed to upset greatly, might I add," Sherlock said. His narrowed even more and the entire atmosphere changed to an icy chill that made Irene's blood run cold. She stopped and gazed at him, stunned. There was no way she could have been mistaken… No, she wasn't mistake…was she?

"You've realized by now how John views himself and as a result you've played on those emotions until it got what you wanted: us, alone. And you had planned, once we were alone as we are now, to seduce me. An admiral plan, one that would have worked had I not been gay," Sherlock said. "Although I use that term loosely as the only person I've found attracted physically, sexually, romantically, and emotionally is John. Now, if you would kindly leave, I must check on my blogger."

Without another word, Sherlock left the room and headed, Irene assumed, upstairs. Irene was utterly baffled. She had never experienced anything like this before. For once in her life, she was unsure of herself and what to do. Perhaps it would be best to leave for now and return later. Although she wouldn't get Sherlock like she had planned, perhaps she could get the protection she desired in the end.

**~…~**

John had always known he was an ordinary chap; that's how he saw himself and that's how others saw him as well. He was okay with that. After all, there's nothing wrong with being normal, being average, being ordinary. That was until he had met Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock was brilliant; he was a genius, he could have anything, anyone, he wanted. And yet…and yet, he had chosen John. Compared to Sherlock, John was nothing. It wasn't as though John hated himself or anything, but he knew that he was average. Boring, as Sherlock often used.

Even after they had begun their relationship, John still saw himself as ordinary and wondered what on Earth Sherlock saw in him. He couldn't have found John fascinating; there was nothing fascinating about him except his military record and the scar he had because of it. Whenever he would ask himself what Sherlock saw in him, he would always reach the same conclusion: distraction. It made sense; the consulting detective often got bored and he would need something, or rather someone, to keep him occupied. John, apparently, was that someone.

It was something that he had accepted, or thought he had. However, that didn't mean that it didn't hurt whenever someone would point out just how attractive Sherlock was and what he was doing with someone like John. While he often dealt with those feelings later, this time with Irene…John knew it'd be difficult.

Irene was practically Sherlock's female counterpart, only she was far more aware of her sexuality and used her body to her benefit. Not only did she have a lovely body, but Irene was also quite intelligent, just like Sherlock, and definitely more so than John ever would be. It Sherlock didn't decide to terminate their relationship in order to pursue one with Irene, the doctor would be very surprised.

He heard the door to his room open and Sherlock stepped quietly inside, his face its usual mask of calm. A sinking feeling invaded John's gut and he knew that this was it. Well, he supposed it was for the best. Sherlock would finally have someone that could keep up with him and John would have… What would he have? Memories of something that had been amazing and brilliant. That would be enough…wouldn't it?

John felt Sherlock's arms wrap around him and pull him back to his chest. Even though he was still upset and confused, John couldn't help but relax as he often did in his lover's embrace. He couldn't help himself; he always relaxed when he was in Sherlock's arms regardless of if he wanted to or not. As frustrating as Sherlock was almost all of the time, he could also be quite calming. It would probably surprise anyone that Sherlock could be quite…endearing in his own way. Although he didn't often show emotions when it wasn't just the two of them, Sherlock often did when they were alone in bed or just alone period.

"John…" Sherlock said softly as he began to nuzzle John's neck. He bloody well knew what that did to the doctor and he was using it to soften the blow. Damn him!

"No need to explain, Sherlock," John said quietly. "I already figured and I'm happy for you."

"What have you already figured out, John?" Sherlock asked him, pulling John down onto the bed so he could spoon behind him and continue his nuzzling. John took a shuddering breath and tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to reveal themselves. Honestly, he was a grown man; he ought to be used to break ups by now.

"Oh, please, Sherlock, you're not stupid so don't act like it," John mumbled. "I'm talking about you and Irene." Sherlock nipped his ear and John's breath hitched. He could feel himself getting hard and he cursed himself for being so weak.

"Yes, the Woman," Sherlock said softly. "She's quite intelligent. Almost as intelligent as I am. However, there is one flaw that she has that is quite obvious."

"And that would be…what?" John asked and chanced to look at Sherlock over his shoulder. Sherlock's eyes were staring into John's with an intensity that would've frightened most people. But John wasn't frightened; not of Sherlock. He was often afraid _for_ him, but never of him.

"She's not you," Sherlock said simply, as though it were quite obvious. "And I told her as such." John turned fully in Sherlock's embrace and stared at him, dumbfounded.

"You…you did what?" he asked.

"I explained to her quite thoroughly that you and I are in a monogamous relationship and that the only interesting thing I see in her is her intellect. Nothing more and nothing less. It's quite simple, really. I'm sure she could've figured it out if she only _thought_ about it," Sherlock explained and John could hear his annoyance and irritation come out as he talked.

"Why would you do that?" John asked, his brain a complete blank. "There can't be much that you see in me."

Sherlock stared at him for a moment, long and hard and intense. It made John squirm, but in a pleasant way. And it affected him unlike anything or anyone else did. From the hardness pressing against him, John figured that Sherlock knew that it affected him and he found the results of that desirable.

"You're my friend, John. My first friend. And you're the person I trust the most. I…care about you and I've told you that repeatedly. I'd be utterly lost without my blogger," Sherlock said, his voice low and thick with emotion, unlike how it often was. "When will you believe me?"

"I'm just a normal bloke," John said. Sherlock leaned in and kissed him. It was reassuring and confident and everything that made Sherlock Sherlock.

"No, you're not, John. And you'll see that one day," Sherlock told him. "I'll make sure of it."

"Is that so?" John mumbled against Sherlock's lips, his tone light and teasing. That made Sherlock smirk and press his body closer to the doctor's. Oh, yes, he was just as hard as John was and that only fueled the desire coursing through the blonde's veins.

"Yes, it is," Sherlock replied before he began trailing kisses down John's neck, nipping and licking and sucking as he went.

"Prove it, then," John challenged. He felt Sherlock's smirk widen against his skin.

"Oh, I would be happy to."

They didn't say anything else, anything that made actual sense anyway. With all thoughts of Irene out of their minds, they spent the rest of the day in bed.


End file.
